


All This Clatter (Between My Ears)

by Morag



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Neutral Pronouns, Genderqueer Character, Internalized cissexism, Non-binary character, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morag/pseuds/Morag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wears robes to their full advantage, using them to disguise his planes and suggest that there might be arcs, rounded edges. Long hair isn't just for girls anymore and he wears that too. Enough that sometimes people hesitate in the corridors, and if he's been called "miss" a few times, it's still wrong, but it means he doesn't look like a sir, which is what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Sirius is a non-binary, gender-neutral person. I'm not kidding about being artsy with the pronouns - Sirius does some pronoun juggling. And I know that Elverson pronouns didn't show up until 1975 (which is a few years after this story is set) and possibly gender awareness was more stunted in UK in the early 70s than I'm depicting it, but I'm taking liberties for the sake of plot. Please do not take this as legitimate trans* history. (I am a gender-neutral FAAB person from not the UK, though I've tried to research both MAAB genderqueerity and UK-things as thoroughly as I can. If I fuck up either one of those things, please let me know.) Title from Andrew Belle's The Ladder.
> 
> Trigger warnings for internalized and externalized transphobia/cissexism, verbal abuse, discussion of suicide, dysphoria, slurs (both trans* and muggleborn), and poor metaphors for trans* concepts. The story isn't entirely finished, so I will adjust the warnings if I need to - but there won't be any non-con at all ever. May become non-graphic Sirius/Remus-y, haven't decided.

* * *

He wears robes to their full advantage, using them to disguise his planes and suggest that there might be arcs, rounded edges. Long hair isn't just for girls anymore and he wears that too. Enough that sometimes people hesitate in the corridors, and if he's been called "miss" a few times, it's still wrong, but it means he doesn't look like a sir, which is what he wants.

Even in his head, the word sounds weird. _He._ It comes with all these assumptions, all these rules, that he can't fill. _He_ means "oldest son" and "one of those boys" and "male" - none of which fit. Sirius tries _they_ in their head for a bit. It is jarring, because they are one person, but they don't know any other way to avoid the shudder down their back when they think _he._

They almost tell Remus, one night. It was after lights-out. Peter and James had fallen asleep, but Sirius kept turning, feeling twisted and misshapen and uncomfortable inside their skin. Their voice hasn't dropped yet, and neither has Remus's, but it's starting to happen to most of the boys in their year and it makes something inside Sirius curl, like sour milk. They want to make all the changes stop. They want to wake up and not have things that don't belong on them and not be wordless and jagged and _wrong, wrong, wrong._

Remus is still awake. The small spot of wandlight bobs on his side of the room as he reads, and Sirius could just walk over and say _I don't fit._ And Remus is smart and he's read many books, and he might know what to do. Remus is someone who fixes things, and he understands secrets.

Sirius pulls themself up, and Remus jolts. "Oh, sorry," he whispers, "I thought you were sleeping." Sirius blinks.

They should answer. Remus is waiting for them, pupils huge in the dim light, and all Sirius can think is that there might be something too weird for Remus. And they can't do it.

"Are you alright?" Remus asks.

"Yeah," they say. They slide back down, ugly flutters going up their spine, all the wrongness digging into them at once.

Remus says, "goodnight," and Sirius murmurs back. _I'm a boy_ , they think. _He. This is just stupid. He._ It's like wearing something far too tight, and he can't breathe in it. But he needs the Marauders.

It's terribly cold in the Gryffindor tower in the winter, and he can be excused for shivering.

* * *

He cuts his hair the next morning. Remus finds him trying to even off one side and fusses over it, saying, "You bleeding idiot, why couldn't you have asked someone who knows what he's doing?"

Sirius ducks his head and says that he thought he could do it, it's just hair. James makes a face at him over breakfast and tells him that he looks too fit with short hair, it's not on, and Sirius grins at him even though his head feels fuzzy and lightweight and odd.

It grows back more quickly than it properly should have, and he doesn't cut it again.

* * *

At some point, _they_ just comes back, and they don't notice until James grins at Remus during homework time and says, "Sirius isn't doing it for me, he's just helping," and they realize what they've been doing with a small flash of nausea.

They swallow hard. _Boy. Boy. Boy._ They might be sick. _Boy._ ~~They~~ He cannot believe how stupid he is being, this is insane, what the hell is wrong with him-

"Hey, you alright?" James asks them. His voice creaks, on the verge of growing deep and husky. The other guys are excited to shave. It sounds like a nightmare to Sirius.

They take in a breath. "Might be catching ill. Not sure. I'm going to get some water." They stand up, and their hands are trembling on the table. _Stupid._

"I'll get it," Peter says, and he's gone before Sirius can stop him. They sit back down, working their hands on their knees, trying. _This isn't that fucking hard. Everyone else can do it._ _Boy boy boy boy boy-_

"You sure you're alright?" Remus asks, and Sirius is a good liar (they've been lying for years, every time hols roll around and everyone talks about plans and they pretend that they won't spend most of it struggling to breathe with all the contorting they must do), but they can't do this anymore. They can't.

They shake their head. "Think I'll just have a lie down, maybe," they say, and James has gone very quiet beside them, because this is not the sort of thing that Sirius does, but they aren't Sirius today, they're a writhing mass of wrong.

On the stairs, they stumble on their robes - the ones that they enlarged to marr the outline of how their shoulders are growing without their permission - and they just want out of their body and name and words and everything. They want to crawl out of their skin, like a snake, but humans don't work like that.

Someone catches their arm as they slip. "Hey," Remus says, righting them, and he sounds rattled. "It's okay. Come on."

"I can get up the damn-" and then they realize that they're crying. How long have they been doing that? They can't do that. Men don't cry.

The tiny, burning, fucked-up place in their chest that brought _they_ back says, _I'm not a man._

Remus says, "It's okay, I've got you," and he doesn't talk to Sirius as they get the rest of the way up the stairs, through the door. Remus's bed is closer and he pulls Sirius against his chest. "Shh. Breathe." Sirius closes their eyes. The face against theirs has no trace of stubble. "It's okay."

Crying doesn't really help, because their shaking shoulders are still wrong and they can't stop thinking about what their friends have to think, because only girls cry like that, and Sirius may not be a man but they aren't a girl either. But Remus's hands are firm and warm and _there,_ and they calm without really knowing why.

When their breathing is just about even, and they're starting to be aware enough to notice that Remus's shirt is stuck to his skin with their tears and that's _horrible_ , Remus runs his hand over their hair. "It's okay," he says, and even though he's been saying that this entire time, it's like a traquilizer.

Remus says, "What's going on?" and Sirius is not so good a liar that they can get out of this. Sirius shakes their head. Remus says, "Something's been bothering you. We've all noticed. You always look tired, you haven't been eating right."

"Don't worry about it, Moony," Sirius says, and they want to pull away but they don't, and the words are pebble-like between their lips.

"You've got to take better care of yourself," Remus says, fussing with the side of Sirius's hair. "Growing boys need to eat, you know."

Sirius shrinks back a little. A shiver runs through them, tracing up their spine.

Remus's throat clicks as he swallows. "Is that the problem?"

Sirius nods slightly, pressing their head against Remus's ribs until Remus's breath catches.

"Please, Sirius, talk to me."

They're quiet and hollow like a shell. Maybe if they're just calm, Remus will stop asking and not discover how wrong they are.

Remus murmurs, "Growing boys need-" and there's a dark pressure on the back of Sirius's eyes again.

"I'm not," they say. They know the rest of the sentence; it sits in the back of their throat and sticks like pus and they can't say it.

"You're not what?" They don't answer. "You're not going to eat?" He stops between each question, waiting. "You're not growing? You're not a boy?"

"No," Sirius says, and it's like the word is wrenched from their throat but also like it's been released, and they're a mess again. "No." It's horrible and creaky and the ugliest and most beautiful word they've ever heard.

"Oh," Remus says, but he doesn't pull away. He pulls Sirius in tighter, tighter, as if he's trying to squeeze them into a different shape. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," they manage.

Remus jerks. "No," he says. "No, you don't need to be sorry." His voice clenches around the word and he clings to Sirius like they might float away. They can hear his heartbeat against their temple, quicker than it should be. "We're going to make this okay," Remus says.

When they're calm enough that Remus can let go of them and sit like an adult, they can't look at him. Remus doesn't try. "How long have you known this?"

"A long time," Sirius says. They feel like they're full of warm jelly. "It only really mattered in the last couple years though. Because everything changes."

"Right. Voices and hair and growth spurts."

"Yes," Sirius says, and it's like a shudder. "And I don't - it doesn't fit. It's like trying to wear clothes that are too small. It's wrong."

"Okay."

"And there aren't any words for me," they say, and their lungs are crawling into their throat again, "because I'm crazy, Remus, I don't know why I can't just - I'm _making this up-_ "

"Hey," Remus says, and they're chest-to-chest again. "If you're feeling it, it's real, alright?"

"I don't have any words," they say again, and for some reason this is terribly important. "I'm not he or she or anything. All things have words, there aren't even any-"

"It's okay," Remus says, and he went stiff there for a moment and Sirius realizes, _oh, he thought I was a girl instead, and now he doesn't know what to do._ They try to worm away but Remus holds them there. "We'll figure it out, okay? We'll find the words. Or we'll make them up."

And they're still uncomfortable and in the wrong shape, but the wound-up coil of _wrongs_ is laxing, and it's so much easier to breathe than usual. They don't even notice when they fall asleep and Remus slips out from under them. They wake up in Remus's bed in the morning, and other Marauders give them smiles and shoulder grips and offers to carry things. Later, Remus will tell Sirius that the others think they're dealing with something to do their family, which isn't rare at all, and no one asks about it.

During History of Magic, Remus slips them a note. _Pronouns: They/them. Ze/hir(hEre). Ey/em. (Like they, but singular.) Plenty more, too, if those don't work._

Ey circles the last and slides it back to him, a smile at the edge of eir mouth, and ey thinks that, after all, ey might be able to make this work.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblique reference to suicide rates/suicidal thoughts in the third paragraph. It's easily skipped, if need be.

* * *

Remus and Sirius read lots of books. Remus reads most of them. Ey tells him that he doesn't need to, but Remus is impossible once he starts on a new line of inquiry. They tell the others that they've been set a project for Ancient Runes (the only class they're taking together) and spend hours taking notes. Sirius reads about the gender binary, transitioning and fluidity, Muggle surgeries. Most of the books are Muggle - Remus's mouth is tight when he says that there hasn't been very much written by wizards - but ey reads more of them than ey would have thought ey could.

Still. They talk about people being assigned to the opposite gender, or moving between, or both, but not neither. Ey still feels like eir skin isn't the right size, and Remus holds eir eyes with his and says, "We'll figure it out." He can see the way eir hands flex.

Once Remus wakes em in the early morning, thumb marking a list of statistics, staring like he hasn't seen em in months, and tells em that ey can't do anything stupid or Remus will kill em. Ey would read that page, too, later. Ey would be lying if ey said that ey hasn't thought about it, when eir bones are ice and ey can't breathe from how tight eir body is. But Remus grinds the knuckles of eir hand together with his grip and says, "Promise you'll tell someone if it gets that bad," and ey promises.

Sirius hadn't even known that Remus was writing letters until the afternoon before full moon, when an owl raps at the window of the dormitory and James coaxes the letter from a surly Boreal. James is squinting at tiny printing, glasses catching the spring sun, when Sirius comes back to the dormitory after dinner and James asks, "Do you know what in Merlin's name-"

He gives the letter to Sirius, and ey sees the first line - _Sorry, I'm not familiar with that gender identity, but I know some people you can contact_ \- and eir lungs catch. "Oh," ey says, "this is probably that thing. He mentioned that he'd been owling some other people with furry problems, he'll probably be right pissed if he finds out you've been opening his mail."

"No," James says, sounding even more puzzled, and that's when Sirius realizes that he's holding another piece of paper with Remus's clear writing. "He's got a friend who 'feels gender neutral.' What the hell does that mean?"

Sirius has to stay calm. "I haven't any idea." Eir voice is too high. "I don't know all his friends. He tutors loads of Hufflepuffs." Ey does a laugh that isn't really a laugh at all. "Sounds like a Hufflepuff sort of problem."

"S'a close friend, apparently," James says, and ey wants nothing more than to tear the letter away from him and Obliviate, because this is exactly what ey did not want to happen. "What other close friends has he got, besides us?"

Sirius shrugs. "Dunno." There was a crazy tattoo of heartbeat in eir ears.

James laughed a little and shook his head. "I mean, how does that work anyway? That's ridiculous. You're either a girl or you're a bloke."

Ey flinches. Ey doesn't want to, but ey isn't expecting it (though ey should have been) and it's everything ey knows isn't true but still kind of believes anyway. It makes something in eir stomach curl.

James notices and his eyes go wide. He looks down at the letter again and Sirius tugs it away, crumpling it in eir hand and feeling eir face burn. James wrinkles his nose. "You?"

"No," Sirius says quickly.

James isn't an idiot. He scans Sirius, pausing on eir crotch, and ey has never felt so vulnerable. "I don't - I mean you're a guy," James says.

Sirius tries to laugh, ey really does. " _I know_ ," ey says. Ey's breathing far too fast, but ey can't make emself slow down. "I don't know who he's talking about."

"But you're-" He stops. "Can I see the letter again?"

"No. Remus'll flip if he knows you're reading his mail."

James shakes his head slightly. "Just, explain it to me? Because I don't understand."

"There's nothing to explain." Eir voice is off and James knows em well enough that he'll see right through it.

James blinks. "I'm sorry," he says, and it's eir turn to be surprised. "I've just never heard of it before. And you've never said anything."

Sirius inhales. The books talked about this - they'd had metaphors and examples and tips, and ey can do this. Ey nods. "I guess, um. It's like. If someone hexed you, and you ended up with only girl bits. Would you stay that way?"

"After I'd touched everything?" James asks, grinning. Sirius raises eir eyebrows at him. "I dunno."

"You wouldn't look like you. And people would assume you were a girl all the time," Sirius says.

James still looked confused. He shrugged. "I would be."

"Not really, though, would you? You'd still be you. You're not a girl. If Lily polyjuiced as you, she wouldn't be male all of a sudden."

James stares at em. He doesn't say anything for a while. Finally he says, "No. Suppose she wouldn't."

Ey smiles. Eir head buzzes a little, because this can't possibly be working. "So that's it, basically."

"You're not either," James says slowly. Ey shakes eir head. "And you can just tell?"

"It doesn't feel right," ey says, and ey presses eir hands together on eir lap. "It's like if you weren't shaped like you are, I guess. I don't really have a good way to explain it."

James watches eir fingers twist together. "It really bothers you," he says, and ey doesn't say anything. "Merlin, I'm such a prick, I'm sorry."

"S'okay." And it's not, not completely, because ey's got a quiet rattle of _wrong_ against the back of his skull, but it's not as bad as it could be.

James sucks in a breath. "That's what you and Remus have been doing. Research."

Ey swallows. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" He reaches over, unwinds eir fingers, and lets them drop between them. James has always done this - known how to wind Sirius down, make em slow. Remus can too, but Remus works at it. Sirius seems to come as easily to James as everything else does.

"I, um. I just. It's really weird."

"Our roommate is a werewolf, Sirius, I can't even see normal from here." Ey can't really smile. James sighs. "I don't get it," he says. "Not really. But you're my best mate, you know? So." He shrugs. "Let me know if I can help, yeah?"

Ey doesn't cry, but eir eyes start to blur. James pretends that he doesn't notice. "Thank you," ey says.

"And here we thought you and Moony were dating." He grins at Sirius's sputter. "I think I owe Peter a galleon."

"The thought that we were doing schoolwork was that unbelievable?"

The edge of James's mouth tics upwards. "Remus, no. You? Yeah."

Sirius doesn't tell him the pronouns, because that conversation was hard enough, but he's using them by the end of the week, so he must have spoken to Remus. Peter starts too, and they bite off certain words midway and pause to remember the right ones, like Remus did at the beginning. When only one person knew, Sirius didn't hear many people talking about em in the third person, but now ey hears it all the time - when they're discussing whether to wake em up or let em miss the potions exam, placing blame for a misplaced quill, grumbling about the mess of eir trunk. It's like the first time ey properly rode on a broom, when ey didn't worry about falling and only felt the flying. Sirius finds emself smiling at the weirdest moments, and if ey sometimes makes trouble just to hear them complain to each other about it, ey would never say.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The metaphor is not a great one, and the fact that it applies to eir experience doesn't mean it should be applied universally to all trans* people's experiences, because different people have very different stories and not all trans* people feel the same way ey does about eir body. But it works for Sirius, so. Thank you for reading! Next chapter coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

It's a bad day - one of the days when ey can barely stand to exist. It's one of the days when ey is too misshapen all around, too far away from normal to not feel like a freak but not far enough to chase the wrong out of eir bones. It's like eir body is determined to be something twisted and illogical, something that doesn't make sense and doesn't match anything that exists, and ey feels like an alien half the time. If ey could make a Polyjuice of who ey is supposed to be, ey would, but ey hasn't the foggiest idea of how to do that.

None of the boys understand, but they can recognize it, just like they know when the moon starts to swell or a Slytherin leers at Peter. They try to keep em occupied on days like that; James will insist that he needs em to help run drills for Quidditch and Peter will have a problem with a spell that he can't solve and Remus will get tea and biscuits from the kitchens and the two of them will play word games (because Peter is terrible and James gets bored). It usually doesn't work, and ey is jumpy and taps eir fingers on things and curls eir toes inside eir shoes. The others slide toffees into his schoolbag - Remus has done chocolate a few times, because Remus is of the opinion that there is nothing that chocolate cannot fix, which is why they fill his bedside table with the stuff every month - and pretend that everything's fine.

That's not how it goes today, though. This day is really, really bad, because they're asked to choose a gender checkbox at the top of their Herbology exams. Sirius has filled in forms like this before, back when ey could tell emself that it was stupid to be bothered, but this time eir hand goes stiff and ey feels sick. There is something tight and painful in eir stomach, and ey stares at it for far longer that ey really should have - ey barely finishes the exam, which is what happens when someone takes ten minutes to fill in their basic information - but in the end, the little M taunts him through the whole exam. Ey's made it as small as ey can manage and still have it be legible, but it is like the letter is pressing into eir skin and drawing blood where the sharp edges dig in. Ey has no idea whether or not ey answers a single question correctly, because all ey can think about is that damn letter.

Peter's in Herbology with em, and he's waiting outside the classroom when Sirius finally leaves. For all that Peter would never make a scene - Sirius suspects that Peter's allergic to public attention - he's angry. As soon as Sirius is close enough to hear him without being overheard, Peter says, "That was ridiculous."

"A little unnecessary, maybe," Sirius says. Ey shrugs. "Probably new Ministry procedure. You know they're obsessive about cheating."

Peter shakes his head, mouth a sharp line. "It was stupid. Like someone would impersonate me and not know that."

Sirius smiles, even if it isn't going to fool anyone. "Like I said. Probably a Ministry thing. That precludes reason."

"And beyond stupid, it makes so many assumptions," Peter says. "I mean, what did you do?"

Ey's stomach twists just remembering. "I picked the M," ey says quietly. "I answered the question." Ey can't really have done anything else, even if ey has any idea of what word would work better. It is for the same reason that ey keeps eir face blank when professors call em Mister Black.

"That's wrong, you know it, and it wasn't right of her to put you in that position." Peter's gripping his books tightly. "Like you don't deal with enough shite already."

"Whatever," ey says. "Not a big deal. Doesn't matter for anything. Don't tell James or he'll get all worked up over absolutely nothing."

Peter shakes his head. "C'mon," he says, "Defence'll be starting." And Sirius knows that he'll tell them anyway, that rat. Though if it's the new procedure, they probably noticed it on their Arithmancy exam.

When they manage to talk after class, in the abandoned classroom on the third floor, ey finds out that it was just Herbology - James wants go to directly to Hufflepuff tower and it takes Remus and Sirius some time to talk him down. He's as angry as Peter was, because even if none of them know why, they know that Sirius gets quiet and self-deprecating when ey has to think about it. "There isn't any good reason," James keeps protesting, and Remus tells him that they need to think and make a plan. Sirius insists that it isn't a big deal and ey's fine, really, but Peter (really, ey may never talk to Peter again, with the way that he is selling em out without a second thought) says that ey barely finished the exam and they all know how good ey is at Herbology.

Once James has downgraded to muttering under his breath, Remus says, "We should just let her know that gender can be a loaded issue for some theoretical people - dragging Sirius into it won't help anything, ey doesn't need to be involved - and that she shouldn't ask on the tests unless she has a really good reason."

"You're not in the class," Sirius says. Ey's still trying to get them to stop, but failing completely. "Besides, it's a stupid thing to complain about. It's silly."

James looks like he's about to start pacing again, and possibly shout some more, too. Remus's expression tightens around the eyes and he says, "I tutor several kids in that class - any one of them could have told me. And she knows my mum and dad work in medicine. They've seen people wanting to change before - not, not like you, exactly, but they've seen gender variation."

"And people don't think it's odd if you're an expert in some random field of knowledge," Peter says, quirking the edge of his mouth.

Remus ducks his head, but he's smiling too. He's looking at Sirius like he's willing em to let them do this. "For all we know, this affects other students too. She doesn't have to know that you have anything to do with this. I promise, Sirius, she won't know."

Sirius isn't even sure if that's what's bothering em, or if ey simply doesn't want to admit how much it bothered em, or if ey doesn't want to get eir hopes up. It feels weird to have people trying to fight eir battles. Ey shrugs eir shoulders and pulls out eir transfiguration text. "Whatever you want to do," ey says.

Remus doesn't go back to the tower with them after dinner, but when he does, he's relaxed. He tells them that she'd been very professional about it and agreed to take it off the exams. She hadn't even asked why he brought it up, apparently.

Two weeks later, Sirius writes eir name and birthdate at the top of eir parchment, and nothing else. It's enough that ey barely notices when Professor Sprout takes the exam from em with a "Thank you, Mr. Black."


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Ey isn't sure that ey will be able to leave the train. Eir eyes are closed, but ey isn't asleep. The bustle of the platform sifts in the open window and ey feels frozen in place. Eir muggle trousers itch and feel odd.

"Hey," James says, tapping eir shoulder, "we're here."

Ey shifts like ey's waking. "Okay." Trunks thunk to the floor around em and ey exhales, shakes eir head a bit, and opens eir eyes. Ey pulls down eir trunk and sets eir shoulders. Peter and James disembark with a flurry of hands and promises to write, and Remus gives him a smile and says that he'll see em at the end of the summer. Ey smiles back, though ey doesn't feel it, and says that ey expects letters.

Sirius's mother is waiting on the platform with Regulus. He's moving from side to side and craning his head to see over the other students, and Sirius can't hear her from this distance, but she's probably telling him to show some dignity. His hair is grown out, falling into his eyes and over his ears.

When he finally sees Sirius, he shouts and grins. There's a black hole eating away at Sirius's gut, but ey waves and walks towards them. Regulus is genuinely excited, babbling and grabbing at his trunk like he can actually pull it, and that helps. "We need to do Seeker drills," he's saying. "I'm going to try for Seeker when I go, and I haven't been able to practice-"

"Whoa, kid, slow down," Sirius says, brushing at eir brother's hair. "First-years can't play on house teams. And you don't even know if there'll be an opening."

Regulus waves his hands. "Never going to get good if I don't play," he says. He tugs at the trunk again. "Dunno why you're not Beater yet, if you can haul this thing around-"

"They didn't need a Beater, I told you."

"Good to have you home, Sirius," eir mother says. She puts out her hands to apparate them, and her palm is cool and smooth in eirs.

Ey says, "It's good to come back," and pushes away the anxious knot in eir chest that's waiting for something to go wrong. It will come back, because something always happens, but for now it's good. Eir brother is smiling and chattering and no one has said anything to peel em apart.

* * *

It doesn't take long.

"I don't know why you let your hair get that long," eir mother says at lunch, passing em the green beans. "You look like a girl."

Sirius smiled tightly, in the way that wasn't really a smile at all. "Professor Dumbledore has long hair."

She makes a disapproving sound. "Professor Dumbledore, right. Exactly the man I want my son to emulate."

Ey presses eir hands together under the table. "Loads of boys have hair like mine," ey says.

"I like it," Regulus says. He's shuffling his peas under the edge of his plate, as if he's not far too old for that. "I think it's cool."

"And that's another thing." Eir mother gestures at Regulus. "He wants to do everything like you. You've got to set a better example. He hasn't let me or Kreacher within twelve feet of him with a pair of scissors since Christmas."

Regulus grinned. "It's cool," he says.

"People think I have daughters," she tells him. He shrugs, tugs on a lock behind his ear, and tries to slip another pea off his plate. "And I see what you're doing, Regulus Arcturus Black, and I expect those to be eaten by dessert."

Regulus scowls. Sirius holds up eir fork. "See, Regulus, I'm eating them." Ey swallows the peas and says, "I'm a great role model. He's just ignoring me."

Eir mother frowns and puts her napkin on the table. "Come on," she says. "Let's get that hair under control before your father gets home."

"We're eating. And plenty of boys-"

"Now," she says, and they go into the kitchen. She pulls down the silver scissors from the cupboard over the sink and leads em to one of the chairs. Ey closes eir eyes as she cuts. "I just don't know why you can't try to look normal," she says. "Can you make an effort for me? People will talk. People already talk."

Ey doesn't say anything. Ey isn't expected to. She rubs her hand over the top of eir head and vanishes the snippets of hair that coat eir shirt. "There," she says. "Now you look like a Black again." 

Sirius nods stiffly. Eir neck tingles. She puts the scissors back on the shelf and tells em to come back out to dinner. Eir chest is a bit too tight. Regulus's face falls when he sees em, and their mother tells him that he's getting a cut too, after dinner. Sirius says, "Yeah, Reg, this is much better." Eir brother picks at his peas and kicks the table.

After dinner, after she's hunted Regulus down with the scissors, she comes up to Sirius's room, where ey's unpacking. Ey's changed back from the muggle clothes, because they don't wear muggle clothes in the house. She makes em stand, fusses over the loose shoulders of eir robe. "Have you lost weight?" she asks, and ey might have, but ey also loosened all eir robes because ey were too exposed in the snug fit before, and ey can't tell her. Ey says that ey doesn't know. She fiddles and tightens in the chest and the waist and the shoulders and ey stands and tries not to feel the fabric against eir skin. It feels like parts of emself have been highlighted red, begging for attention. All ey wants is to forget about them.

"Are all your robes like this?"

"They look fine, Mum," ey says.

"They're baggy. These were tailored, they're supposed to fit properly." She's frowning at the seams. "I'll be having a word."

"Just leave them?" ey asks, and ey tries for bored or annoyed but it just sounds desperate.

Her eyebrows furrow. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mum, just tired. May I finish?" Ey's stomach is clenched and aching. Ey wants to curl up in a blanket in the corner and not think about it.

Her expression changes to sympathy. "Right, of course." On her way out the door, she says. "Your father will be home in twenty minutes. Wear the robes that fit, alright?"

Ey nods. The door closes behind her and ey places eir hands on the trunk. They're shaking, just a little, and ey has no idea how ey's going to manage two months of this.

* * *

It's a lot of little things. It's the way that eir mother frowns at eir clothes and the words ey chooses and the posture in which ey sits. It's the way that eir father's nose wrinkles when he hears that ey's continuing Herbology ("that's a woman's subject if I ever heard one," never mind that it complements Potions and Defence, never mind that it's really difficult, never mind that there are just as many female students on the honor roll as there are male) and the way he looks at em askance every so often and says, "You've been given excellent genes, boy, hold up your head!" It's how Regulus asks em if ey's shaving yet, or if eir voice is getting deeper - "I think it is, I think it was lower just then!" - until ey can barely stand to hear emself. It's how ey has to screen everything he does or says beforehand to make sure that it won't give em away.

It's the weight of being told to be more masculine until ey doesn't know if ey can keep a blank face, and being told that everything ey does that isn't masculine is somehow feminine - like feminine things are bad, and like there isn't a space in between the two, like everything belongs to one team or the other and there's nothing between ( _which is something that ey knows to be true, because otherwise it would have been in the books somewhere, wouldn't it? How long is ey going to keep working emself up about nothing?_ ). Ey hugs eir pillows against eir ribs like it can get rid of the knot that nestles there and tightens every time.

One day, Remus sends em a letter filled with nothing but the word _ey_. Sirius buries it in one of eir books and takes it out every so often, like a photograph.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger info (SPOILERS!) re: verbal abuse situation in the endnotes, if that's something that would be helpful to you.

* * *

Ey's at the dinner table at eir cousin's house. Ey is nearly halfway through with summer hols, and the part of em that would be happy that ey can soon stop pretending (eir hair has to be cut twice a week and eir mother has started shouting) is simply numb. Ey needs out.

Bellatrix's talking about her boyfriend, who's apparently on the Quidditch team, and ey isn't paying attention. This is why ey almost gives emself whiplash when Regulus, sitting next to em, bangs his fork on the table and says, "That's Sirius's position!"

"Regulus!" his mother says.

Bella smirks. "Please. Him? We'd snap him like a twig. He wouldn't be able to get a bludger to move an inch. This new kid, though-"

"That's a lie!" Regulus crawls up on his knees in the chair, but he's still short - the Black children always have been, and Bella has always been amused by it. He pokes Sirius. "Tell her, Sirius!"

"Let's leave that question to the Quidditch pitch, shall we?" ey says, slicing through eir meat.

"Is that a challenge?" she says. "I've got brooms and a bludger out back."

Sirius rolls eir eyes. "During dinner, Bella? Really? Are you nine?"

"Scared I'll beat you?"

"Scared I'll ruin your lovely dress," Sirius says.

She stares at em. A grin starts to curl the edges of her mouth like a flame, and ey had been joking about being scared a moment ago, but now ey is, deep in eir chest. "You're such a girl," she says.

"We've downgraded to five years old, I see." Eir food sticks in eir mouth.

"You won't believe what I heard," she says. "Well, I mean, you might."

Cygnus, her father, levels a look. "That's quite enough, Bella."

"I heard," she says, "that he didn't want to check the male box on a test. He made his mudblood friend ask them to take it off."

Sirius clenches eir toes in eir shoes. _Don't panic, don't panic, they'll know._ "Really? That was the best you could do? Pretty weak, honestly."

But the dinner table has fallen pin-drop silent, because that's something too odd for a one-off insult. Now they're staring, but not at Bella.

"Sirius?" eir father says. His face is expressionless, but his fingers are tight around his fork, and Sirius knows what that means.

"I don't have any idea what the hell she's talking about." Regulus goes bug-eyed that ey swears, and Sirius doesn't think he understands anything else that's going on, but ey doesn't know if that should make em feel better or worse. Ey wants to tell her to _shut up_ , that she doesn't have a clue what she's saying - ey wants to be able to shout at her for calling Remus what she did, too, and ey can't (because the Blacks will tolerate a Gryffindor but they won't stand a pollution sympathizer, not after Andromeda). "What does that even _mean,_ Bella? It's a pretty poor insult when it's not even clear how you're insulting me."

Bella just keeps smiling and smiling and smiling. "You should see him at school." Her elbows are on the table, leaning across towards em, and no one's telling her off. "Long hair and loose robes like a _dress_."

"We all buy the same robes," ey says tightly, and ey needs to stay calm, because ey is not in control of this situation but ey needs to act like ey is. Eir shoulders are wire cords and eir hands are twisted into origami shapes in eir lap and this can't be happening.

"Once," and _fuck_ , ey knows what she's about to say before she says it and there's nothing ey can do to stop her, "one of the ghosts said, 'excuse me, miss,' and he said thank you."

Narcissa, who has been suppressing laughter throughout this entire story, finally loses it. Regulus looks at her in confusion before he starts to shout over her giggles that Bella's lying, because his brother looks exactly a boy and no one would be stupid enough to say otherwise. Sirius thinks, for one extremely terrifying moment, that ey'll be sick right here, on the dinner table. Eir mother is trying to get Regulus to calm down and be quiet and Narcissa tells him, "Oh, like you're not a little transvestite too."

Then things properly explode, because Regulus is climbing out of his chair and trying to get at Narcissa and Sirius has uncoil emself to hold him in place. Regulus is shouting and trying to twist out of Sirius's grip, Druella has excused herself and Narcissa from the table, Cygnus is talking to Bella in a firm, low voice, and Sirius's parents have their heads close together. Ey doesn't want to know what they're saying because ey isn't sure that ey can imagine worse.

Regulus nearly gets free and Sirius tugs him to the floor, fitting over him like they're both still little kids. "Calm down." Ey tries for the tone of voice Remus would use. " _Breathe._ "

"She's a liar," he says. He's not as loud anymore. "I'm not a transvestite and neither are you."

Sirius has to take eir own advice and exhale slow, because eir brother is watching em and ey can't be upset. Ey's the older sibling here. "She's crazy," ey says, pressing a kiss to the top of Regulus's head. Their parents would freak, but Regulus relaxes a margin, and they can't be seen from here. "You're the toughest boy I know."

"And so are you," Regulus says, wriggling. Sirius sits up, since it doesn't seem like Regulus will be making a break for it, and pulls him close. Regulus tucks his head under eir chin. "You are."

"Yeah," Sirius says. "Are you calm?"

Regulus nods. Sirius can trace the arc of it across eir chest. Ey hasn't properly held Regulus at all this summer, because Regulus has been an uncontrollable ball of energy (Sirius has no idea how Hogwarts will manage), and Regulus is bigger than ey remembers. The warmth is the same, though, and the soft puffs of breath on eir neck hasn't changed.

Their parents slide out their chairs and stand up. "Come along, boys," their father says, and Sirius might be imagining the pointed note, but ey probably isn't.

Regulus, who has wound himself around Sirius like an octopus, peels away from his sibling and gets up.

"She's crazy," he tells his mother, who sighs and rubs his head. She tells him that they're going home now, and Regulus doesn't argue. Sirius stands up, brushing imaginary dirt off eir robes so that ey doesn't have to look at eir father, who's waiting in freezing stock-silence.

* * *

The floo home isn't nearly long enough. Regulus is sent to bed, and he shouts about it (because it's only seven-thirty) but goes. Their mother goes to put him down and Sirius sits with eir father in the front room, which is far too small.

"Would you like to tell me what in Merlin's name is going on with you?" He talks through gritted teeth, and Sirius hasn't heard eir father this angry since ey was sorted into the wrong house. There's definitely a parallel here, but ey doesn't want to think about that now, because that time was bad.

Sirius can't look at him, but the glare is strong enough that ey can feel it drilling into em. "Nothing's going on with me," ey says. Ey can't hide behind a table now, though, and ey's sure eir father can see how tightly eir hands are gripped.

"Don't give me that shit," he says, and Sirius can count on eir hands the number of times that ey has heard eir father swear. "Are you enjoying this? Are you trying to see how much you can disgrace the Black name, is that it?"

Ey doesn't say anything.

"It's bad enough that we have a Gryffindor in the family, and don't think people don't talk enough about that, and now this? Why would you do this?"

Eir chest is collapsing inward, it must be, because it shouldn't be this hard to breathe. "I'm not doing any-"

"Liar." It is, quite possibly, the ugliest word ey has ever heard. "No Black man is going to dress like a woman."

"God, Dad, I swear I don't. She's making it up. You know how Bella is, she's trying to get a reaction-"

"Your mother tells me that you'd altered your robes when you got to school. And that disgusting hair." 

Ey won't cry. This is a stupid reason to cry. "I swear to god," ey says, and eir voice is wobbling, "so many boys at school have long hair, you should see it, half the boys in the school, I didn't know-"

"Get out," eir father says, and for one long, horrible moment, ey thinks that he's telling em to leave the house. But he's pointing for the stairs. "I can't look at you anymore."

Ey curls up in bed, even though it's far too early, because ey's exhausted and eir chest hurts more than ey knew it could and ey doesn't want to talk to anyone else tonight. Ey waits until eir mother has looked in and left again before ey lets go. Since the beginning of summer, ey has done this a few times, and this time isn't much different. Ey opens and closes eir fist under eir pillow and cries as quietly as ey can, pressing eir face into the comforter, and barely notices when ey slides into sleep.

When ey wakes the next morning, eir hands are coiled around locks of black hair at eir neck, and ey buries emself in eir blankets, despite the heat.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an example of Cissexist Families Taking Trans* Badly, so there's some usage of slurs ("transvestite" specifically - there's some debate about whether or not it's a slur when it's applied to a trans* person, but it sure as hell sounds like one when my sister says it, so I'm tagging it) and verbal abuse of the "why do you have to be such a disgrace, fuck you and your gender identity nonsense" sort. Just letting you know in case that's a specific thing for you - I know I'd benefit from a heads-up about that sort of thing.
> 
> Thank you all for reading/commenting/kudosing! (We need a verb form of that word.) I'll see you soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end for specific awful stuff spoilers, including a slur use, if that's something that would be helpful to you.

He's back to using male words for himself by the end of the third week. His mother cut his hair nearly to the scalp after it grew back, and she's cutting it every morning at this point. She had sat with him on the floor of his bedroom and gone through his things, telling him what was okay and what wasn't. In the beginning, he was angry. Now he's glad that he knows the rules.

He has rules on how to sit, how to talk, how to smile and shrug and duck his head. He has rules about what he is allowed to wear with what and how he is allowed to wear it. Every morning, he gets up, gets dressed, and goes downstairs to get a haircut. That's the system.

He isn't allowed to talk to Regulus without his mother present. If Regulus notices, he doesn't comment on it; he flies and builds things out of books and teases Kreacher and makes Sirius read to him, just the same as before. His father doesn't acknowledge him at all. His mother says that that will change when he sees that Sirius is trying to do better, but Sirius doesn't think so. Regulus sticks to him like glue and Sirius does everything he can to keep him there. He's the only person right now who doesn't see something disgusting when he looks at Sirius, and Sirius hides in his room and does homework when their mother makes them separate. She tells him that she's only protecting Regulus and that he should understand. It makes his stomach twist when Regulus looks at him like he's the best person in the world, because he never wants to do anything to hurt him.

One morning, after cutting his hair, his mother puts her hands on his shoulders and asks him if he's starting to feel better. He hadn't told her how awful he felt a few months ago, when he was still fishing for an answer, and he doesn't give her a straight answer now. He feels tired and sick and hollow as an empty bottle most of the time. She kisses his forehead, where the hairline curves, and says that it gets worse before it gets better. He doesn't know if he can do the waiting.

She tells him that they can figure this out. Remus had told him that they could figure it out, too, but Remus had meant something different. Remus sends him another letter, and he hides it in a pair of socks without opening it.

* * *

Bellatrix is their chaperone on the platform. She doesn't say anything, but she flicks her hair and smiles and Sirius's skin crawls just being around her. Regulus hugs his parents - his mother tells him to study, his father tells him not to get into trouble. Sirius's mother rubs his arm and says that she's proud of him for trying so hard. His father doesn't say anything, and Sirius is determined not to notice.

Then the train's horn is wailing and they set off, the girls flanking Regulus in a manner that is wholly unnecessary. They go into the next carriage and close the door tightly behind them, and Sirius has had weeks to get used to this. It shouldn't be a shock.

His friends are probably on board already, but he doesn't search the train for them. It's difficult enough to get himself and his luggage into a compartment, because if he could have stayed in the corridor until the train pulled into Hogwarts, he would have. His feet are encased in stone. And his head _aches_.

Several people ask if his compartment's full, and he keeps holding the sides of his head and wincing and they just leave. This is why he almost doesn't notice when someone pries one of his hands away from his temples. "Hey there," Remus's voice says, "You alright?"

"Just a headache," Sirius says, tugging his hand back.

Remus produces a very small _oh._ "Sirius," he says, in a slightly different voice. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't- We couldn't find you before. Do you want to come down to our compartment? I've got paracetamol. Muggle medicine. It works all right."

Remus hadn't recognized him. Sirius is still wearing his muggle clothes, because sitting upright feels ambitious enough, and his neck is bare and cold. He doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to be _this_ , and being around the Marauders will make it real. And he doesn't want to think about Remus selling him out. "I'm good here," he says, pressing his hands against his face.

"Okay," Remus says. "What can I do?"

He probably means muggle pills, or water, or for him to leave Sirius alone. But Sirius says, "Who did you tell?" and there's a bit of a growl in his throat and Remus jolts next to him.

"What?"

"About Herbology," Sirius says, looking directly at Remus because maybe that way he might have a prayer of knowing if Remus is lying to him. "Professor Sprout."

Remus is always pale - they've been making jokes about him being a vampire instead of a werewolf for years - but he looks like he's been bleached. "I didn't tell anyone," he says, and it's been a long time since his voice has been that small. "I swear, no one."

"Bella knew," Sirius says. His forehead tightens, sending bolts of lightning through his temples, and he pulls his head away and pushes back a scream. It makes a terrible high-pitched noise anyway. He needs to stop talking. He needs to go to sleep. Or disappear. Or make Remus disappear.

"Shit," Remus says. His voice is shaking. "I don't - I didn't tell anyone but you, Peter, and James. I swear to god, I swear on anything you want. I didn't tell anyone else. Fuck, do you really think that I'd do that to you?"

And the thing is that Remus really wouldn't. He understands secrets, he understands prejudice and danger. He knows more about Sirius's situation than Sirius does. Remus is sitting across from him in the carriage now, leaning forward. His hands hover over Sirius's, hesitant. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not allowed to talk to Regulus anymore." Which isn't what he meant to say. He drops his head between his shoulders because it's heavy and hurts and he can't cry here. He can sense Remus's hands just above his, and he nods.

Remus wraps soft, bony fingers around Sirius's hands. "God, Sirius," and it's the fact that Remus - who knows everything and always has the right thing to say - can't say anything else that presses against his eyes. His shoulders ache when he pulls them up and he doesn't know why. He swallows, hard, and squeezes his eyelids together until stars pop in his vision.

"He'll definitely be a Slytherin anyway." Sirius tries to unhunch his shoulders, but they're filled with taut wires. "Brothers aren't always together. He's getting old enough."

"Jesus," Remus says. "You, Sirius. Are you okay? What did they do to you?"

"They're just trying to set me right," he says, and it's very important that Remus understand that he can be fixed if he follows the protocol. The block of ice above his lungs doesn't matter one bit if he can find something to make him stop feeling so wrong.

"No." Remus's voice is firm and grounded and stable. "You know that's ridiculous."

Sirius doesn't answer; he looks at his hands, instead. He wants to say that he's an embarassment. That he's a shame to his family and the entire wizarding race. That he simply hasn't been trying hard enough and it will snap into place after a while and he won't feel a twinge every time he thinks himself male. He wants to say that he's crazy. He wants to say that Remus doesn't need to indulge him anymore.

Remus holds on to his hands, and the bones grind lightly together. Remus's fingers are long and thin, like knobbly twigs, and his thumb moves over the back of Sirius's hand. His veins are bright blue through his skin. He says, "You're here now," and Sirius wants to curl up next to him and not let go until the earth falls into the sun. There's a solid need in his chest and it's all he can do to keep from pulling Remus to him.

He breathes in. "I know."

Remus exhales. Some of the tightness goes out of his face. "It'll be okay," he says. And Sirius wouldn't bet on that, because his (eir? their?) chest is contracting and the distance is suffocating.

This is new, and this is terrifying, and Sirius can't be a queer on top of all the rest.

Sirius asks, "Which compartment are the others in?" and the moment breaks.

Remus lets go and stands up. "Second to last car." He smiles. "James got new glasses. They look ridiculous."

"Do they?" 

"They're huge. He looks like an insect."

They don't run into the Blacks in the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More internalised and externalised cissexism, of course, because fuck awful families. Return to binary pronouns (for now) - I've been using the pronoun changes to reflect internal acceptance, because that's how I experience it and I think it works. "Queer" as a slur is in this one.
> 
> Happy Day after Christmas, if that's a holiday you celebrate or otherwise appreciate. Otherwise, I hope you're all happy and doing alright on your time off work/school, especially if you're in an environment that sucks. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for updates that are a bit more upbeat.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oblique references to child abuse in the first section.

* * *

Sirius doesn't use a pronoun for a while, and it's better. For a little while. Because Sirius can pretend that it was all a phase, and that life doesn't need to change, fancy words don't need to be used. Sirius can do what Sirius has been doing for years and it'll be fine.

Which it isn't, of course, because the fitted robes get too uncomfortable to wear after the first two hours and there's hair on Sirius's neck in the morning. Sirius lets it be, and when ey sneaks back into eir internal narration, ey lets it. Ey changes eir clothes, brushes out eir hair, stops analysing the way ey stands to make sure it's man enough. Bella shouts at em in the halls, but ey is expecting that.

Ey doesn't expect the nightmares. Some are of being suffocated in thick mats of curling hair, squeezed into hard edges, opening eir mouth to find a harsh bark. Some are of eir father shouting and eir mother telling em that ey can be fixed. Some are of Remus saying, "Sirius, you do know this is ridiculous, right?"

Some nights, ey has shoulders that curve and a soft jaw and smooth, flat skin between eir thighs, like a doll. After these dreams, ey wakes with a lump in eir throat for an entirely different reason.

Ey's been feeling off all day, and then ey dreams of being locked in a house of mirrors. When ey wakes, ey goes into the bathroom to keep from being sick all over the bed. Chills run over eir skin as ey tries to slow eir breathing and calm down, but eir stomach keeps twisting and there's a tightness over eir breastbone that presses like a vise. Acid burns at the back of eir throat.

Ey rests eir head against the wall and closes eir eyes, thinking of cool and calm and quiet, listening to the damp sound of rain on the window and the breaths of the boys. Eir ears are rattling with a heartbeat that's too fast, hands cupping eir eyes to block the light, and ey doesn't notice that someone else is there until a hand touches eir shoulder. "You okay?"

Sirius exhales raggedly and leans into the touch, because ey hasn't felt that for weeks. Ey says, "Moony?" and the hand stills for a moment.

James's voice, which ey would have recognized if ey hadn't been so out of it, is fond. "Just me," he says. "Are you okay?"

Sirius pulls down eir hands and opens eir eyes. James's face is pinched and concerned. Ey says, "Yeah." Eir voice is creaky.

James sets em back against the wall, facing him. "Hospital wing's still open. Bet Pomfrey can give you something for that."

"I'm fine," ey says. James raises his eyebrow. Ey says, "Something settled wrong. I'm not ill. It's nothing."

James nods. Neither say anything for a moment. James fiddles with his hair.

"If, er," he says, not looking at Sirius, tracing patterns on the tiled floor with the hand that isn't tugging at the hair behind his ear, "if - I mean, my dad's an auror."

Sirius has less than no idea where he's going. "Yeah, I know," ey says.

"If he can help with, I dunno," and now James looks like he's the one who might be sick. "You're just. You're really quiet since you got back, and, just, you look. Odd. Sometimes."

Sirius pulls up eir shoulders, and James lets out a laugh that really isn't. "And - like that," he says. "My dad, he used to bring home kids who needed a place to stay until social services opened in the morning. That's what you look like."

"My parents are fine," Sirius says. "And they don't - _shit_ \- they don't hit me. And if I need your help I'll fucking ask for it."

James flinches back. "Okay," he says. "I'm sorry, merlin. Okay." James puts his back against the opposite wall of the bathroom. There's an ache under the edge of Sirius's ribs. James says, "I'm sorry. I just - I'm sorry." James looks pale, and frightened, and very out of his depth.

"James," Sirius says, because ey can't apologise right now. Ey puts his hand out and it shakes, because ey can't get rid of the goddamn chills.

James stares at it for a moment before sliding over, flannel pyjamas scraping on the floor, and sitting next to em. He holds eir hand between both of his, cupped. "Jesus, is it that cold in here?"

"It's this," Sirius says, gesturing to emself, eir limbs and muscles and joints, with eir free hand. "It's - it sucks."

"The gender thing?"

Sirius nods once, hard, and ey doesn't fight when James loops an arm around eir shoulders and pulls em closer. "Okay," James says again. "What do you need?"

"This is okay," ey says, faint.

James makes a small sound. "I mean," he says, "what do you need to be for it to not suck? We're wizards, damn it. We can do magic."

Sirius laughs, more out of surprise than anything else. "James, we're fourteen."

"We're planning to be able to turn into animals in a few months," and that is an exaggeration, because they are probably a year or two from the animagus thing, but James grins anyway, "and you don't think we can do a bit of transfiguration?"

"Remus wanted to wait until we found out what it was," Sirius says. "We were going to owl a few more people, make sure we knew everything we could."

James takes a breath. "Fuck that," he says, and Sirius flinches at the venom in his voice. "I'll burn out my eyes for Remus, you know that, but this is ridiculous. There's no reason why we can't look up some spells. We're top of our class, you know we could."

James was right about their animagus plans - they were probably still ages from success, but they've gone much further than most adults had. And James was one of the best transfiguration students in a decade, though McGonagall would never say it.

"We'll have to do research," Sirius says, with a small groan.

James grins, and his smile is huge and white.

Sirius leans into him and smiles emself, a little. "You and Remus," ey says, listening to James's lungs expand and contract, "it's a conspiracy."

* * *

Ey can see Regulus in the Great Hall at mealtimes. He was a Slytherin, of course. The hat had hesitated for nearly a minute on his head, and Sirius had the crazy thought that he might be in Gryffindor too, because Sirius still didn't know why ey was and maybe the hat saw the same invisible thing in Regulus, too. Bellatrix had clapped the loudest when she welcomed him to their table, and Sirius looked back at the other first years when ey saw her searching Gryffindor table for em. Ey'd seen enough of her smirk for the next decade.

Regulus sits with Bella and Narcissa and the Rosiers, at first, but he makes his own friends. Ey has to ask Lily to ask Severus to find out the name of the boy he sees the most; he's Ansel Hughes. Sirius sometimes catches sight of them sitting in the deep windows of the castle, Regulus's pallor all the more pronounced next to Ansel's dark skin when the blue morning light hits them. From what he can tell from her sour looks, Bellatrix isn't half happy about it, because she had a list of children from her sort of families for him to befriend, but they're all Slytherins and both Ansel's parents are magical, so Sirius doesn't think she has a good argument, even using her own value of logic. Regulus looks happy most times, and that makes it easier that he pretends not to notice Sirius whenever they're near each other. His hair's grown out long again.

Remus tells em that he's heard from someone from the Midlands who's done magical transition and is willing to meet with them. Sirius realizes, with a odd clarity, that there isn't a gender-neutral term for magical people. (Funny, ey thinks, that a muggle can be anyone but they are witches and wizards.) They've set a date for next Hogsmeade weekend. James is going on a date with Alice, and Peter needs to buy his sister a birthday present.

The person they meet is pretty, with dark brown curls resting on olive skin. A purple dress swishes where long legs cross at the knees. "Hello," the person says. "I'm Imogen. Lady words."

"Sirius," ey says. They aren't at the Broomsticks, or the Hog's Head - neither of them were secure enough for James, especially if he wasn't going to be there. There's a small coffeeshop in the back of the village, where the students don't come, and they arranged for a booth. Still, Sirius hunches eir shoulders and moves in against the wall. It's a bit hot to be wearing eir cloak inside, but ey doesn't think ey can take it off.

Remus fits in next to em, shoulders brushing eirs. "Hello, I'm Remus Lupin," he says, because he's a professional and he's put together and he's a thousand things Sirius will never be. "Thank you for coming."

"Oh, it was my pleasure," Imogen says. She smiles. "How can I help you two today?"

For one frozen second, Sirius thought she was going to say _you boys_ , and the pit in eir stomach won't go away. She's waiting, hair curving where it touches her shoulder, and ey can't breathe. Ey's only ever done this twice. "Um," ey says, and eir voice twitches. "It's like - I was trying to - I, um - Do you know anythi- Um, sorry." Eir throat is dry. Ey's grasping eir wrists under the table, and the heartbeat is stupidly fast. That little doubt is caught in eir throat, the one that tells em that this is stupid and that it's just a matter of time until someone realizes that ey's crazy. "I'm just - sorry."

"Not a problem," she says - not sympathetic like James, not awkward like Peter, not matter-of-fact like Remus - but light, breezy. "I know, it's hard to explain."

And it's partially because she _does_ know that Sirius squeezes eir eyes shut for a moment, inhales through eir nose, tries to calm down. Remus is sturdy beside em, as always, and Sirius feels that pang under eir lungs again and god, ey needs to figure out what that means. "Um," ey says. "So. What do you - do you know about non-binary gender, at all?"

"Quite a bit," she says. "I'm a bit of a gender-swinger myself."

Sirius blinks.

Her lipsticked mouth curves into a grin. "It's a female day," she says. "Last Wednesday and Thursday were male days, and my friends called me Eoin. Some days I'm inbetween." She takes a sip of her water. "Makes for a hell of a wardrobe."

Sirius blinks again. Ey wants to run, or slide under the table, because this is real, now. She isn't made up in eir head.

Remus presses his shoulder against eirs, just slightly. His hand wraps around eir wrist, turning it away from where ey can feel eir pulse thudding under the skin. Remus says, "I guess that would make a complicated suitcase."

"Packing for three, most of the time," she says.

Ey knows that they're trying to give em some space, loosen the atmosphere. Ey swallows. "What pronouns do you use?" ey asks.

Her eyes light up. "Female right now, male if I was presenting that way. Ze and hir if I'm not either one, or both, or if you don't know which I am today. How about you, using the fun ones?"

"Ey," Sirius says, and it feels so weird to say it out loud, because ey doesn't really hear other people use it. But it's a wonderful weird. "El-something?"

"Elverson," Remus says. Because Remus is always the one with the facts, but that's fine, because she's smiling and brushing back her hair. "Christine Elverson, she's an American. They're pretty new, relatively speaking."

"I don't change," Sirius says suddenly. "I'm always this."

"So Remus tells me."

Ey takes a breath. "How d'you-" Ey stops, thinks. It takes em a moment to realize that the rapid tapping sound at the edge of eir hearing is eir foot moving under the table. Sirius can't ask her how she manages, waking up in something that isn't hers most of the time (and ey also wonders what it's like to come back to a self that isn't too big or small or crooked for one's skin). The question ey has in eir throat is too baring, too self-pitying, and ey isn't going to ask her how in god's name she lives with herself, being different.

Imogen waits. There's a calm in her, like the calm in Remus. After the silence stretches for nearly a minute, she must see something on eir face, because she leans forward on her elbows. Sirius braces. But Remus never looks like he feels sorry for em, and neither does Imogen. "It's hard," she says. "It's hard because there isn't a paved road for people like us. We've got to hack through the underbrush until we find our bearings, and people will tell us that we're lost and confused and that what we feel doesn't exist, because they only believe in marked roads. And it all seems practically impossible, most of the time. And I'd like to tell you that there's a book for that, or that I can give you directions, but they won't help you."

Ey hunches back into eir seat. Remus tightens his grip, and Sirius wants to leave this booth. Go to the mountains or just convince the ground to eat em. "I'm sorry," ey whispers. "I meant to ask about spells."

She'd gone serious, but now the edge of her mouth quirks just slightly. "Someone I admire told me a few years back that we're always the best versions of ourselves. People have always thought lots of horrible things that don't matter - like, some people used to believe that blood was relevant to the kind of person you were."

"People still think that," Sirius says, remembering comments that were hushed with company and angry in private.

"Some people. But the point is that now we know it doesn't, and it doesn't matter in terms of anything. Whether you're a he or she or ze or ey or they or what have you doesn't make you any more or less valuable as a person."

"I know that." Eir face burns and ey works eir free hand against eir knee. "I just - I know that."

Remus hugs Sirius, right there in the shop, in front of everyone, and Sirius wills emself to be utterly silent, because it's as wonderful as it is mortifying. His hair is against eir cheek and he moves when he breathes. He says, "You'd better bloody know it. We tell you often enough."

Sirius makes a small sound of protest and Remus draws away. Sirius wants to pull him back, hang onto him until there isn't any more ice in eir chest and the ache behind eir eyes goes away. Ey darts a quick look at Imogen - the corner of her mouth is twitching, but she looks more fond than mocking. Ey wants to say that they aren't whatever they look like, because Remus isn't wired that way and Sirius doesn't want to think about whether ey is or not. Ey has too much going on to worry about whether or not ey's like that, or whether ey even can be, or if ey has to be.

But it doesn't really matter - she's pulling out a packet of parchment covered with large, looped writing. She slides them over to Remus and Sirius and walks them through the different spells and potions to soften skin and keep a voice from dropping and manage the bulge in eir pants (ey hadn't thought that ey could be more embarassed than ey was before, but Remus is leaning over the table asking detailed questions about how it works and ways it can go wrong. Ey hides eir face behind eir hands and pretends not to hear Imogen giggling). She's even got instructions to alter eir robes in a less slipshod way than ey had been, and she'd said that she couldn't give Sirius a guide to this, but it feels like she has.

The packet rustles on the table as Remus consults it. He's squinting at it like it's a book he's begged out of the restricted section, one of the ones with tiny print and uneven ink. He has to keep pushing his hair out of his face, because he hasn't gotten around to cutting it and it's not long enough to stay behind his ears. The thin strands make pale shadows on his cheek.

Imogen's smiling when ey looks back at her. It's the same smile as before, like she's watching small children playing. Ey knows that she's still thinking it - that they're together, or that Sirius wants them to be together, anyway - and ey wants to tell her that she's wrong, but ey isn't certain that ey is.

"Thank you," Sirius says.

Imogen inclines her head. "You're very welcome and it's a pleasure to meet you, Sirius."

Ey stands and shakes her hand across the table. Remus gets up too, scarred fingers folding the parchment quickly and tucking it into his coat.

They make their goodbyes. Imogen stays at the table, ordering a butterbeer that she says they don't sell in Birmingham. It's not a long walk to the clearing where they'd agreed to meet Peter when they were through, and they don't speak as they walk. The leaves have all fallen, piling in the corners of the path, making a rubbery sound under their shoes.

Remus's hand swings at his side. Sirius doesn't take it, no matter how aware ey is of its movement, and Peter's waiting for them with a shopping bag and an expectant expression.

* * * 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, the story's not discontinued, I've just had a lot going on this month and I'm sorry. If you're still reading, thank you!
> 
> Imogen is genderfluid and hir experience is also not representative of all genderfluid people. I've built hir character from research and talking to genderfluid people I know, but since I'm not genderfluid, please let me know if I've messed it up.
> 
> Be also aware that my trans* history timeline is still a mess because Elverson's pronouns didn't appear until 1975 and the time in the story at present is late 1974.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry. I'm not going to make promises about how often I can update this, but I haven't abandoned it.
> 
> Because I realised this once I actually bothered to research timetables and classes - first to fifth years are required to take Herbology (the Marauders are fourth years now) and Arithmancy isn't offered until sixth and seventh years. So I've already taken liberties with the course catalogue, and I will continue to do so now, because that's easier. I'm trying to do my research so I _don't_ take liberties with testosterone-induced developmental changes, but don't use me as a medical reference because I'm sure I'm getting a lot wrong.
> 
> Specific list of trigger warnings in the endnotes.

Ey keeps the parchment from Imogen in eir trunk under eir bed for weeks.

Once, ey pulls it out and looks at it, thinks about the ways ey could change. It's thrilling and terrifying and ey can't silence that voice in the back of eir head that tells him that the charade has been ridiculous enough, but this is going too far. Actually casting one of those spells would be crossing a line between silly things a crazy confused kid does into something real and solid and so much more dangerous. The others don't say anything about it - Sirius would bet money that Remus told them something about letting em move at eir own pace - and ey hunches in eir oversized robes and closes eir eyes in the shower and tries not to think about the treasures living under eir bed.

In early November, when ey's answering a question in Astronomy, eir voice breaks. Other students smirk and a nostalgic smile curls the corner of Professor Saiph's lips as he returns to his lecture, but Sirius can hardly bear to speak for the rest of the day. It had felt alien and awful, like insects coming out of eir mouth instead of words. Ey could pretend that it is a cold, but ey knows what it is, and it's like a flesh-eating slug in eir stomach. James keeps frowning at em and Peter asks for more help in Herbology than he really needs, but Sirius smiles and says as little as ey can get away with, because ey isn't sure if ey could take it happening again.

That night, ey skips dinner and goes up to the dormitory instead. Ey tugs out eir trunk, brushing the dust off the top, and undoing the lock to lift the lid. The papers are there. The parchment catches on eir skin - which has gotten rougher and thicker in the last months, and it makes eir chest go cold when ey thinks about it. The torches on the wall aren't bright enough, and Sirius huddles against the wall to get enough light to be certain of the words. You couldn't guess with spells.

There's a potion, which looks fairly simple, but Sirius can't fathom waiting until tomorrow to use eir cauldron, not when speaking is so impossible like this. Standing with eir back to the wall, ey feels like ey's on the edge of a precipice. It feels like a point of no return, like crossing this line will irrevocably mark em as someone abnormal and other, like everyone will be able to see. Eir father's face is looking at em, full of disgust, and ey is so afraid that ey won't be able to slip back into the shadows when ey needs to ( _not,_ ey thinks, _that that was working very well_ ). Ey is so, so afraid that ey's making everything up and that ey will wake up one morning and be fine, and ey'd have changed for nothing. But ey can't sit and watch eir body contort and wrench into something that's even worse than it is now, because ey can barely manage _this_ , some days.

For one, long, moment, holding eir wand to eir throat, ey thinks vaguely about how easy it would be to cast a different spell instead, because eir heart is pounding and ey isn't sure if eir legs will hold em up against the wall. But ey doesn't have much time - the others will notice that ey's missing and they'll come looking for em - so ey gathers eir breath and whispers, "Retexere inclinum."

Something in eir throat jumps under eir wand, like a hiccough, and there's a sting that's gone as soon as ey registers it. Ey doesn't move for a moment, as if waiting for the world to fall down around em, but nothing happens. It's dark and quiet in the tower, because everyone's at dinner, and ey slides to the floor. Ey sits in silence and shakes for what feels like hours.

The door opens. Slowly at first, but Remus pushes it roughly when he turns his head to Sirius, sitting against the wall in the dark. He makes an oh sound, and it's choked off and feral and Sirius will never be able to forget that sound. "Sirius."

Sirius raises eir head and realises, with a sick pull in eir stomach, that eir wand is still pressed to eir throat. "I'm okay," ey says, jerking eir hand down like ey's been burned.

Remus is already right in front of em, prying eir wand out of eir hand with shaking fingers. "God," he says. His eyes are glossy in the torchlight and he grips eir wrist with a hold that shifts the bones. "No, Sirius, _no_."

"I wasn't-" Sirius says, even though, if ey is being honest, ey had thought about it for a moment. Ey tries to convey, with just the force of eir solid voice, how much ey knows why not to. "I promised, Moony."

Remus exhales, hard. "You did," he says. It sounds like an accusation. "Do you need help?"

Sirius has no idea who Remus thought they could go to, if Sirius really did need it. "I-" Sirius closes eir eyes for a moment, breathes. Remus stays, thumb pressed over Sirius' pulse, like he needs that reassurance. Sirius thinks ey does, too. "It was - it was my voice. I was fixing it."

It takes Remus a second to figure out what ey's talking about. Sirius gropes out to eir side until ey finds the parchment and pulls it into the light for Remus to see. "It cracked today. I needed - I couldn't take it, I needed to fix it."

Remus looks at the paper, face blank. "So you weren't-"

Sirius turns eir hand to wrap eir fingers around Remus' cold arm. "No."

Remus blinks, then he melts. He's been crouching, but he sinks to sit cross-legged across from Sirius, shoulders finally dropping, chest rising and falling. "I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I know." Sirius feels so, so tired. "I'm sorry. I, just - I needed to."

Remus nods. His hands are still shaking, but Sirius is pretty sure eirs are, too. "That's great," he says, twisting his mouth into a thready smile. "I'm - I'm glad, that's good, that that's something you can do. I'm glad." He's pretty shaken up, though, too, and he lets go of Sirius' wrist to scrub at his face.

Sirius guides him to sit next to em, back to the wall, and Remus wraps long arms around em. His hair tickles the side of Sirius's neck. "Do you feel better? After fixing your voice, I mean?"

Sirius nods. If nothing else, it's a weight gone for now, one less thing to catch in eir throat when ey wakes. And all day ey's felt ill at having to speak because ey couldn't hear that twisted sound come out of em again, and ey had forgotten how hard it is to be silent.

Remus asks em if ey's going to do anything else and Sirius says that ey doesn't know. They don't go back to the others - they sit knee-to-knee on the floor and play exploding snap instead, even though Remus always loses. Sirius doesn't let eir eyes linger on the way Remus' bright scars catch the torchlight. Peter and James bring them mutton from dinner, and Peter scrutinizes Sirius when he sees em like he senses that something is different, and Sirius tries not to think about that too hard.

Ey lives with three boys. Ey knows that the voice is only the first thing, and that ey's been lucky that it's taken this long. James and Peter have stayed short like their fathers, but Sirius remembers how quickly eir lab partner from Ravenclaw had shot up after his voice went funny. Sirius' father is quite tall, and Sirius doesn't know how ey feels about that, yet, so ey works on the potion that will keep em the same size.

Ey starts to sneak potions ingredients out of school cupboards, sweet-talking Slughorn to get permission to work late in the potions classroom. None of the other marauders are any good at potions, but they try. When Peter mentions that Lily is one of the best in their year, Sirius says no, because ey isn't ready for someone else to laugh at em about this. Ey's had to renew the voice spell three times by the end of the week, and ey's working on the potion for that, too. James makes his jokes about research and they start planning pranks in the dungeons, over a simmering cauldron. If it means that Sirius ruins twice as many batches as ey makes correctly, it's still worth it.

What scares Sirius more than anything else is how dependent ey is on these new things. No matter how hard it was to pretend, how cramped and crushing it was to try to fit in a shape that wasn't eirs, it is a thousand times worse to go back to doing that after tasting what being emself is like. Now, it hurts like a needle in eir chest to hear people call em _Mr. Black_ or _he_ and ey redoes and redoes and redoes the voice spell to make sure it'll hold. It's like letting a hole in the ice freeze partway over, so it needs to be smashed to open up again. As the nights get colder and the snow begins and the days towards Christmas click away, ey doesn't know how ey will do it, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion (and confusion) about suicide.


End file.
